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ameliagiovanna0 · 9 months

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Chenford Week 2023 - Day 3: Something’s Missing Day (Incorrect Quotes)

When I Taste Tequila

Lucy comes home tipsy and has an interesting question for Tim.

Based on a tweet from @IncorrectRookie

AO3

1.1k words

Tim tried to distract himself. He wasn’t worried or concerned, just bored. Maybe a little antsy. He got used to spending his nights with Lucy, but she wanted to have a girls night. And he wasn’t about to beg her not to go, even though he desperately wanted to.

So, he waited. He changed into Lucy’s favorite pair of his sweats and propped himself up on the couch with Kojo and a beer. He was attempting to pay attention to the Rams game on the TV, but his mind was elsewhere.

Nearing halftime, he heard shuffling. Keys clanging together and against the wood of the door, hushed voices, a few giggles, and eventually a thud.

Kojo jumped down and started toward the door, tilting his head. Putting his beer down, Tim followed after him as the door swung open, “Tiiimmmyyy-“

“Hi, babe,” Tim said as he stared at the women in front of him, Lucy slumped against Angela’s side, trying to balance herself on one foot while trying to take off one of her shoes.

Lucy, having managed to get the shoe off, haphazardly tossed them in the direction of the shoe rack. She pulled her arm from around Angela’s shoulders - where she’d draped it in hopes of getting Lucy from the car to the house in one piece - and stumbled toward Tim. She wrapped herself around him, somewhat akin to an overly affectionate koala. He held her against his chest, her chin tilted up to look at him as her hands ran up and down the planes of his back under his shirt.

“Oo! Hi, Koj, I missed you!” Lucy squealed at the dog staring at her in utter confusion.

Tim managed to grab her before her body slumped to the floor to reach their fur baby. She drummed her fingers against his skin and continued to stare up at him.

“Ange?” he prodded, brushing the hair out of Lucy’s face.

“Tequila.”

“Ah.”

He looked down at the women pressed against him as she giggled at… him? Kojo? Tequila? He wasn’t sure, “Did you have fun?”

“Oo, yeah! We did trivia and then we did shots!”

“Shots, huh?”

“Mm hmm,” she giggled, twisting her fingers in the hem of his t-shirt, “Well, me and Nyla did. Angela was being boring.”

Angela shook her head, “Sometimes, I really hate breastfeeding.”

He nodded in response. At least they had a designated driver and didn’t have to bother with Uber.

“Thanks, Ange,” he said.

Even if Lucy was going to have a massive headache in the morning and he missed her like hell for the three and a half hours she was gone, he was glad she had fun and that Angela had her back. After previous experiences, Lucy became weary of bars and drinks and going out.

While Tim had known Angela for fifteen years, she and Lucy had only known each other for four. But the bond they formed in that time was something Tim would never take for granted. They trusted each other. Lucy trusted Angela to have her back, even if it was just to watch the bartender pour her drink or look after it while she went to the bathroom.

She saluted them with an amused smile before turning back toward the half open door and making her way back to her car.

“How many shots did you do?” Tim asked as he tried to maneuver her further into the house.

She stumbled over her own feet as he tried to aim her in the direction of their bedroom.

“Mm, like five…maybe? I had tequila. I like tequila.”

“I know you do,” he chuckled.

“Angela made me try mezcal too.”

“Did she now?”

“Did you know it’s made from worms? Where are we going?”

“It’s not made from worms, babe,” he replied, trying not to laugh at her alcohol induced childlike state.

“Yeah, there was a worm in the bottle,” she grumbled, an adorable pout on her lips.

“They put those in after it’s made. It’s just a gimmick.”

He managed to guide her far enough into the bedroom for her to flop on the bed, her hair falling in a halo against the comforter behind her head. Kojo followed after them, sniffing Lucy’s ankle, seemingly trying to make sure she was ok.

“Hiiii, puppers!” she squealed, rather unceremoniously starching the top of his head.

He bristled when her pinky finger inadvertently made contact with his cornea and trotted off to his bed in the corner of the room.

“It was kinda cute.”

“The worm?” He wasn’t sure if she was talking about Kojo or the worm. Knowing Lucy, especially tipsy Lucy, it could be either.

“Mm hmm… would you still love me if I was a worm?”

He chuckled from where he stood in front of her, his hand on his hips, taking her in, “Bold of you to assume there’s a universe where I wouldn’t love you.”

She sat up, making herself dizzy, “You do love me?”

He took a step forward, now desperately trying not to laugh, “Yes, I do. Luce, I’ve loved you for years. If that ring on your finger is any indication.”

Her eyes grew comically wide as she pulled her right hand out in front of her, searching for the ring he claimed was there.

“Other hand,” he encouraged.

Her other hand made its way into her field of vision, almost making her fall backward, having forgotten she was using it to support her weight.

“Oo, pretty!”

“I’m glad you think so,” Tim said, finally letting a half a laugh escape him.

“When did that get there?” Lucy asked, pulling her hand closer to her face to examine the sparkly object.

“Few months ago," he said, grabbing one of his sweatshirts from the dresser, “Come on. Time for bed.”

She tore her attention away from her ring long enough to look at Tim, “Are you coming too?”

“Yep, I’m coming too.”

“Good.”

“Come on,” he said, motioning for her to stand up.

She slowly, and rather ungracefully, stood up.

“Arms up,” Tim said tugging at the hem of her blouse.

She raised her arms and he pulled the fabric off her body. He popped the clasp on her bra and tossed both items to the floor, “Sit down.”

She sat on the edge of the bed, pouting at him, “I wanna sleep, Tim.”

“You can’t go to bed in jeans, Luce.”

He eventually freed her of the rest of her clothing and replaced it with his sweatshirt. He tucked her into the covers and crawled in behind her.

She plastered herself against his side, her head on his chest and her leg between his. He thought she was asleep until he heard her soft, somewhat slurred voice, “So you would still love me if I was a worm?”

#finally getting some more of these posted #chenfordweek23 #ameliagiovanna writes #the rookie #chenford #lucy chen #tim bradford #angela lopez #kojo the dog #chenford fic #chenford fanfic #chenford fanfiction #amelia's chenfordweek23

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thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles · 2 years

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Die First

Max Mayfield x fem!Munson!reader

Warnings: cursing, st4vol2 spoilers (but also incorrect quoting so--), blood, vomiting, unbelievable amounts of angst (‘cause I like it for some reason), making out, happyish ending, reader has asthma

WC: 4.2k

Someone dies or someone gets hurt, but if one of us dies I hope I die first, ‘cause I don’t wanna live without you I don’t wanna ever learn how to fall asleep without you Tell me what’s worse: losing you now or later Maybe I can break the curse and I can be in love forever If I die first

Max was cursed. You knew that. But if anyone was gonna die, you’d want it to be you. Max had already been through so much and she didn’t need to be scared that she was gonna end up like Chrissy or Fred or Patrick. It wasn’t fair to her. If she rose in the air and her fragile bones broke--

“Hey, Y/n.” Max’s voice cut through the dim ringing in your ears and you snapped your eyes open to look at her. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. A-are you?”

“I’m okay as someone hurtling towards a gruesome death can be.” Max shrugged. “You look like you’re gonna be sick, Y/n.”

“I’m okay, really.” You patted the seat next to you and Max sat by you. You started to reach a hand out to hold hers, but Lucas took the seat next to her, forcing you to retract your hand.

Max’s face broke into a smile as she looked over at Lucas, who smiled back.

“Max, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Max smiled bigger as she looked at Lucas, making you feel like you were intruding. You silently got up and moved seats to sit by Robin, watching their exchange.

Robin looked between you and Max, then back again. She rested a gentle hand on your shoulder, “I know how it feels, Y/n.”

You startled, “I don’t know what you’re talking about?” You hadn’t meant it to come out as a question, but it was too late.

“The way you’re looking at Max, the forlorn expression on your face, how I know you wish you were Lucas right now… you like your best friend.”

“Wh-what? I do not!” You spluttered, red-faced.

Robin gave you a look. “I’ve made that face before. I’ve felt the same way.”

“Don’t diagnose my feelings, Robin. You don’t know what you’re talking about,” You pushed her hand off your shoulder. “I don’t like Max like that. I would know if I did.”

Robin looked down, hurt. “I’m not trying to tell you that you like her, Y/n.”

“Yeah? Well, stop. Stop whatever you’re doing. I’m not about to end up in Pennhurst because of your bullshit explanation.”

“Why would you end up in Pennhurst?”

“Because you’re freaking crazy, Robin. You can’t just yell out in an RV that I like Max. Someone will think I’m psychotic and they’ll send me away.”

Robin scoffed. “It’s an easy secret to keep, Y/n.” She folded her arms across her chest. “And there’s always a chance that this won’t work, so you’d better tell her.”

“Wait, you- you think this won’t work? You think that we won’t be able to save Max and Hawkins?”

“No, no, I didn’t say that.”

“Yes, you did! You think Max is gonna die, that we’re gonna lose, that Vecna’s gonna take over the world--” You began hyperventilating. Max looked up, hearing your loud breathing.

“Y/n!” Max moved quickly, grabbing your inhaler and placing it between your lips. “On three, okay? One, two, three.” She pressed the trigger on three and you inhaled the medicine. “Are you okay?”

You looked up at her, the sunlight haloing her head and glowing gorgeously across her face.

“Y/n?”

“Oh, yeah. Thanks, Max.” You avoided her eyes, choosing instead to look at Robin, who gave you a knowing look.

Max slid into the seat across from you. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Thank you,” You continued avoiding her gaze, focusing on Lucas behind her. “You should get back to Lucas.”

Max frowned, “Uh, okay.” She slid out of the bench seat and went back to Lucas.

Robin opened her mouth to speak, but you cut her off. “Shut up.”

She grinned. “I wasn’t going to say anything. But you should tell her, Y/n.”

“No, I can’t. When we kill Vecna, she’ll avoid me. She’ll hate me, and if you couldn’t tell, Lucas is trying to get up the courage to ask her out again. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

“You’re suppressing your feelings--”

“Robin!” Steve called from the front. “Stop harassing a kid and get your shit together. Max, Lucas, Y/n, Erica, this is your stop.”

The four of you gathered the lanterns and pads of paper and moved toward the door. Steve caught your arm as you went out the door. “Good luck.”

You furrowed your eyebrows and shook your wrist out of his grip, turning to receive Eddie’s worried look.

“We’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, I know. Just be careful, okay?”

Your brother’s worry scared you, and you nodded. “Okay.”

You stomped down the steps of the Winnebago and Lucas shut the door behind you. Max pulled her headphones over her ears again and clicked play on the tape. You gave her a worried glance, which she ignored. Erica went up the steps of the Creel House as Steve pulled away from the curb. Twisting the knob, you pushed the door open and clicked your lantern on.

Oh my God, I’m so scared.

Max was looking around the attic when she was intercepted by Erica, who already had you and Lucas in tow. Erica held up the pad of paper. “I found him.” Max read off the sheet, then nodded and followed the three of you to the living room, where Erica’s lantern glowed bright and subdued shades of blue.

Erica deposited the three of you in the living room and then crossed the street to call Steve, Robin, and Nancy.

The awkwardness and tension in the air were almost palpable. Lucas shot Max a smile, who then scribbled something down on her pad of paper.

“Hi,”

“Hi,” Lucas returned, shielding his paper from you.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me, too.” Lucas wrote, adding a smiley face. And, after a moment’s hesitation: “Movies on Friday?”

Max grinned and began to write something, hiding her pad when Lucas leaned over to look. When she showed him, you saw that she had drawn two stick figures holding hands, and immediately felt sick to your stomach. The three lanterns on the table suddenly went dim. Shit. Max stood, retrieving her shoes and tying the laces. You and Lucas got your lanterns and followed Max up the stairs in socked feet.

Max stood in the center of the attic, lantern shining brightly on a crate in front of her. “Come and get me, asshole. I’m right here. No music this time.” Max set her cassette player on the crate beside the lantern to prove her point. Then she sat on the floor and began to speak. She spoke of Billy, of how she was glad she wasn’t dead but at the same time wished she was, how she was happy that Billy was dead. That’s when her eyes rolled back in her head and Lucas dove to her side. You ran to the window and were flashing your flashlight toward the playground when you heard a loud thudding behind you-- someone was coming up the stairs.

Jason’s blond hair became visible first, then his bloodshot and tired eyes, green letterman jacket, and finally, the shiny, silvery steel of a revolver. You felt bile rising in your throat and swallowed hard.

“Sinclair,” Jason said, diverting Lucas’ attention from Max. “What are you doing? Wake her up.”

“Jason, I can’t.” Lucas stood, shocked, and moved away from Max.

“Why not? Is this another devil, cult thing? I said to wake her up!” Jason raised the gun and trained it on Lucas, loading the chamber with a click of his thumb.

“No, Jason, don’t!” You stepped out of the shadows. “You don’t understand, this has to happen.”

“Another Munson. I should’ve known.” Jason sneered, then turned his gun on you. “Why does it have to happen, freak? So you can open a gate for Satan?”

“We’re not devil spawn, Jason,” You scoffed, then realized how poor a decision it was to antagonize a person with a gun, let alone someone who seemed willing to use it on you. “Just… we can’t wake her up, but we’re not killing her.”

Jason let out a brutal laugh, then got down beside Max, making sure to keep his gun pointed at you. “Hey, wake up.” Jason shook Max’s shoulder lightly, attempting to wake her up from the trance. “Wake up!” You could tell that if he couldn’t wake her up, Jason would do anything in his power to force you to bring her out of it, including threatening you at gunpoint or possibly shooting you.

Jason stood and pointed his gun at Lucas again. “Wake her up, Sinclair.”

“We already told you, we can’t!” You shouted, trying to pull Jason’s focus away from Lucas. “Please, Jason, you have to trust us.”

“I can’t trust you if your cult killed Chrissy and Patrick. Especially if you’re planning to kill this girl.”

“We’re not,” Your voice broke and you could feel tears wanting to well up in your eyes, but you forced them away. “I would die for Max, I-I never want to lose her. Honestly, I hope I die first because I don’t wanna live without her.”

“Then wake. Her. Up.” Jason menacingly shook the gun at you and then Lucas let out a primal cry and tackled Jason. Their bodies collided with the crates, spilling the contents to the floor. The gun fell out of his hand and skittered across the floor, the shine lost in the darkness of the attic. Lucas punched Jason in the side and Jason returned a punch to Lucas’ face.

“Shit, shit, shit!”

The walkie crackled with static and you heard the front door slam, feet pounding up the stairs.

The doorknob rattled and Erica yelled, “Let me in!”

You attempted to get around the boys, but Jason’s arm rocketed out and tripped you. You fell and broke your chin and, to your horror, the cassette player on the splintering wood.

“Son of a bitch!” Bile again rose in your throat, forcing its way out of your mouth. You held back a cry of anguish. Blood and vomit leaked down your chin and stained the collar of your shirt. With a loud crack of glass breaking, the room went quiet. You spun, expecting Jason, but Lucas was keeled over, hands on his knees, panting heavily. He looked from Jason to you, to the broken player on the ground, then to Max, whose legs were uncrossing themselves as she rose into the air.

“No!” Lucas yelled, standing under her and reaching for her feet. Too late, Max’s eyes went almost white. She convulsed and then her limbs went taught, the bones in her arms and legs pressing against her skin harshly before snapping loudly.

You let out a dry sob and Max fell into Lucas’ arms, who was sobbing freely. You knelt by them and brushed Max’s hair out of her face, tears springing to your eyes. “Shit, Max, no!”

“L-Lucas? Y/n? I-I can’t see, I’m scared… I’m not ready to die, I don’t want to die!” Max’s eyes were white, thick drops of blood dripping down her cheeks.

“You won’t, Max, okay? You’re gonna be fine, I promise, I swear on God that you’re gonna be just fine,” You reassured, despite the sobs building up in the back of your throat. A sense of helplessness was beginning to overtake your body, starting in the pit of your stomach and rising to your head, echoing in your skull.

“Stay with me, Max, stay with me!” Lucas cupped Max’s cheek as he sobbed, brushing his tears off her pale face.

Max’s breathing began to slow to a painful pace and she heaved once, blood splattering her lips and chin, then stopped altogether. You and Lucas watched in agony as her eyes fell closed, hiding the white irises from you.

The ground split open, dark red light spilling from the fissure, and you helped Lucas pull Max away before following the fissure’s progress. It ripped through the attic floor towards Jason, who lay partially conscious near the bay window. He let out a pained moan as it tore through him, killing him almost instantly and disintegrating him, forcing you to turn away from Max and throw up on the floor. Your breathing increased in pace as you watched Lucas attempt to wake Max, as the dreadful realization settled on you- Max was dead. They hadn’t stopped Vecna. Robin had been right, and you still hadn’t told Max your true feelings for her. The door finally opened and Erica stopped cold at the sight of Max.

“Erica, call 911!” You yelped, nearly choking on the lack of air. “Hurry!”

Erica turned and rushed down the stairs, footsteps thudding loudly against the horrible backdrop of silence, save for your ragged breathing.

“Erica, help!” Lucas called in an earth-shattering voice, which caused you to sob against your better judgment, which knew you were having an asthma attack- but you’d left your inhaler on the RV, which was parked at your trailer. You gasped and clutched your throat, trying to avoid looking at Max or Lucas.

“Sh-shit,” You coughed, and then you could hear the sirens. Erica had called emergency services and they were close. Max let out a small gasp for air and you swiveled to her, still gasping. Lucas startled at the outburst and gently grabbed her wrist, checking for a pulse. You locked eyes with him and he gave a slight nod. However faint Max’s heartbeat was, it was there. Max was alive. It was impossible, unthinkable, you knew you had to be dreaming, but you thanked God nonetheless for the development and smiled softly, still hacking out breaths.

The EMTs rushed up the stairs, closely followed by Erica, and immediately transferred Max to a stretcher. They carried Max to the ambulance and attended to you and Lucas quickly. They put antiseptic on Lucas’ face and gave you a quick dose of albuterol before flipping the sirens and lights on then driving off, leaving you, Lucas, and Erica on the sidewalk in front of the Creel House.

Lucas held his sister close, the pair of them shell-shocked. You went back upstairs, ignoring the red rip in the floors and ceilings. Retrieving the walkie, you called Steve.

“Steve?” You choked out, noticing the dark stain of blood on the ground. “Robin, Nancy? We kind of have an emergency here.”

The walkie screeched once and then Steve’s voice came through. “I know. We’re going back through the gate now. Be there soon.” Then, nothing. Radio silence from the older teens. You went back downstairs after collecting the pieces of Max’s player.

You sat on the curb next to Lucas and Erica, “They’re on the way. I don’t know anything else.” You whispered. “I have a feeling that something really bad happened.” You coughed, hiding a sob. “And, Lucas, Max is gonna be fine, okay? She’s alive, and that’s better than--” You stopped short as car lights turned on across the street and someone wearing a Hawkins High letterman jacket got out of the car.

Hands deep in his pockets, Andy crossed the street and stood in front of you three.

“Where’s Jason?” His voice was deep as if he was keeping himself from crying.

You looked up at him, suddenly sympathetic, understanding of Jason’s motives. “He didn’t make it. I-I’m sorry.”

Andy’s eyes shot from his shoes to your eyes. “You’re lying. What did you do to him?!”

“I didn’t do anything,” You replied, somewhat calmly. “I’m sorry, Andy. Go home.”

For a moment, he looked like he wanted to punch you. Then he turned around, went back to Jason’s car, and got in the passenger side. You looked away as he started to cry, partially out of embarrassment and partially out of sympathy. Headlights glowed down the road and you turned to see the Winnebago turning the corner. You forced yourself to your feet, then pulled Lucas and Erica to their feet.

Steve parked the RV on the side of the road and killed the engine, to your surprise. The door swung open and you waited until everyone was out of the RV, but you only counted four pairs of feet, not five like you expected. Swinging your head up, you noticed who was missing. Where the hell was Eddie?

Steve’s eyes connected with yours, brimming with tears and sympathy. “Y/n…” He held out his arms and you rushed towards him.

“Where’s Eddie?” You held back tears, just as everyone else did. “Steve. Where’s my brother?”

“Where’s Max?” You heard Nancy ask Lucas.

“Sh-she’s at the hospital,”

“You might need this.” Steve opened his hand to you and you took your inhaler from his hand. “Y/n, I’m so sorry.”

“No, Steve,” A sob pushed its way out of your throat. “Don’t lie to me, it’s not a joke. Where’s Eddie?”

Steve shook his head and a tear traced its way down his cheek.

“No--no, you’re lying! You’re lying!” Air whistled through your lungs and you pulled the trigger on the inhaler, the medicine uselessly escaping into the air.

Steve lunged for the inhaler and snatched the inhaler out of your grip, despite your protest, and forced it between your lips. He pressed the trigger, forcing you to breathe properly, and hugged you tightly.

You pushed uselessly at his chest, “No, get off. You lied to me, I hate you, I hate you.” Tears streamed in an unbroken river down your cheeks, staining your’s and Steve’s shirts.

You could feel Steve’s tears wetting your hair. “I’m sorry, Y/n, I’m so sorry.” He comfortingly rubbed your back and you clutched at his jacket, clenching it tightly in your fist. When you finally pulled away, your fingers were stiff and you were sure that your face was tear-stained and red.

“Did you at least bring him back?” You watched for any sign that they had, an imperceptible nod of some sort, but Steve shook his head, forlorn. “You left him in the Upside Down?!” You shoved Steve backward. “You left him in that nightmare? What the hell’s wrong with you?!” You punched Steve’s chest multiple times until he grabbed your wrists and pulled you close again. “You bastard! You’re useless, I can’t trust you to do anything! Eddie trusted you to kill Vecna and you couldn’t even do that, he died and you failed!” The venom in your words stung, you knew, but you couldn’t stop, despite the guilt. “You failed and Max died, you goddamn bastard!” Your voice rose, words contorting into knife-sharp shapes as you continued to yell obscenities at the poor boy. “Asshole!”

A rough hand covered your mouth, forcing you to stop yelling. “Jesus Christ, Y/n. I know, you’re mad. I’d be upset, too. But that doesn’t give you license to swear at me on the sidewalk. Eddie was my friend. I’m just as mad as you are.”

“I-I’m not mad! I’m hurt and it’s not fair that you left Eddie there, in the Upside Down, all by himself.”

“What was I supposed to do? Leave Dustin there with his body?!”

“No! But you can’t leave by himself, he hates being alone, Steve. It’s not fair.” You took a deep breath and stopped crying. In a softer voice, you said, “You could have brought him back, at least.”

Six months later

Max’s breathing was steady, and her heart rate was stable. As far as you knew, she was going to wake up within the next year or so. Some coma patients could hear when they were unconscious, but the doctors didn’t know if Max could, so they assumed she couldn’t. That’s what they had told you, that she couldn’t hear. The whole town thought that Eddie had hurt her, had nearly killed her, but they knew that Eddie was dead. They assumed because of the “earthquake.” Lucas had stopped visiting Max after the first month and you had taken his place. You didn’t read to her or tell her about your day, you just sat by her side and wished you could hold her hand. The cast was no longer around her arm, but if anyone saw you…

Oh, screw it. You picked up Max’s hand. Her skin was warm and the weight of her hand in yours felt nice, but you didn’t know what Max would say if she were awake and you took her hand in yours. Then, the slightest bit of pressure on your hand. It wasn’t just the warmth and weight of Max’s hand, you realized. Max exhaled sharply and your eyes travelled up to hers. Her blue eyes glistened, and God, was she pretty, even under the harsh hospital lights.

“Y/n?” Max’s voice cracked, almost like a walkie-talkie. It was the first time she’d said anything in six months, so the words must’ve hurt to say, must’ve scratched her throat on the way out.

“Yeah, Max, it’s me,” You made to take your hand from hers’ covertly, but Max threaded your fingers together and squeezed your hand. “How you feeling?” You turned your head away from hers’ in an attempt to hide your blush.

“I’ve been… better,” Max smiled. “Y/n, l-look at me.”

You obeyed, turning your head to face her again. Her red hair seemed firey, her eyes alight. “I swear to God, you’re a goddess.”

Max’s mouth dropped open. “What?”

“Shit.” You dropped your eyes to the bed, “I’m sorry.”

“If you meant it, I’ll take it as a compliment.”

You blushed. “No, I mean, yeah, I did mean it, but I meant I’m sorry that we didn’t… save you. We tried, really, but I crushed your tape player. I’m so sorry, Max, I know it was probably awful.”

Max scooted over and patted the bed beside her. “It’s okay.”

You shifted into the bed beside her, trying not to sit on the IV or the medicine drip that was tucked into her arm. “Doesn’t make me any less sorry.”

Max squeezed your hand again. “What does this mean?” She raised your interlocked hands.

“I think you think it means something different than me,” You mumbled, looking down.

“I know what you think it means,” Max tucked a hand under your chin and turned your head to her again. “And I like you, too.”

You reddened. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about--” And then her lips were on yours. Shocked, you pulled away. “But what about Lucas? You and him--”

Max put a finger against your lips. “Being in a coma gave me lots of time to reflect, Y/n.” Max grinned, “And I know now that I had wanted to go on that date with you.”

“With me?” This was unbelievable. The Max Mayfield wanted to go out with Y/n “The Freak” Munson?

“Only if you want to,” Max suddenly seemed smaller, more fragile, and she looked away. “Sorry.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“No, no, Max, I do want to go out with you, I was just surprised. I didn’t think you liked me like that.”

“I didn’t know until I heard Robin talking in the RV. The day that I… died.” You winced, but she continued, “And I was so confused. I thought I was just feeling normal best friend feelings for you, but then I remembered I never felt that way with El… Y/n, I love you.”

Your body propelled you forward, into her lips. She sat for a second, then she kissed you back.

Melting into the kiss, you pushed everything you felt for her into your lips as her tongue swiped along your bottom lip. Parting your lips, you felt her tongue on yours and-- the heart monitor went off, indicating that Max’s heart rate was above 90 bpm. You pulled away, grinning, and reached for her wrist.

“Feeling okay there, Max?” You could feel her pulse pounding, you knew it was going as fast as yours.

“Yeah, I-I’m okay,”

“And, for the record, I love you, too,” You were leaning in to kiss her again when the door flew open. In the doorway stood a dark figure. The person had dark, bloodshot eyes and a pained expression on their face. They stepped into Max’s room and grinned, showing bloodstained teeth. You took them in for a moment, then you flew to their side.

“Oh my God, Eddie!” Hugging him tightly, you could smell blood on his clothes, and in his hair, and the air suddenly wasn’t enough for your lungs. “Je-Jesus Christ, you’re alive!” You coughed, and then Eddie was leading you over to the chair you’d been sitting in and rooting through your bag for your inhaler. He triggered it for you because you refused to let go of him.

“Yeah, kind of,” Eddie rubbed your back comfortingly. “Hey, Red.”

“Hi,” Max’s voice was soft, her face red. “You didn’t--”

“See you guys kissing? No, no way.”

Your face heated up, “I hate you.”

“You were just saying how happy you were that I was alive.” Eddie kissed the top of your head.

“And I am, but I can still hate you. Don’t tell anyone, okay?”

“I won’t. I can’t stick around long, anyway.”

“What? Why not?”

“He knows I’m gone and he’ll assume that I went to warn you about his plan.”

“What? Who--”

“He, as in Vecna?” Max’s face was dark, her stony expression practically unreadable.

“Yeah.”

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